Quinn - Iris Johansen [117]
“But I never saw her like this before. It … scared me.”
“Why?”
“She wasn’t … herself.” How to explain it to him when she was bewildered, too. “She was always happy when she came to me. I was the one who was anxious and worried and full of guilt. She’d laugh at me and tease me and tell me that everything was all right with her. That I shouldn’t fret so much about finding her and bringing her home.”
“And that’s a wonderful thing.”
“But she wasn’t like that when I saw her a few moments ago.” She repeated, “She scared me.”
Joe put his hand on her arm and pulled her close. “You said that before. Why? What was different?”
“She was sad. Her face was so sad. Bonnie was never sad.” She could feel the tears sting her eyes. “Or if she was, she never let me know. Did she hide it, Joe? Did she hide it so that I wouldn’t be unhappy?” She swallowed hard. “And what is she doing here, dammit? First, you’re talking about that death fog you went through. Then I see Bonnie, and she’s not my Bonnie. Is she trying to tell me something?”
“If she was, then she’d come right out and say it, wouldn’t she?”
“No, she can be enigmatic as hell.”
He smiled. “That sounds very human and very special.”
“Yes.” Bonnie had always been special, and she had remained special even after that monster had taken everything else from her. Her gaze searched the bayou, but she saw nothing but mist. She could feel nothing. She turned away. “She’s gone.” She moved back toward the car. “And you’re probably thinking I’m acting as neurotic as hell.”
“No.” He got into the car and stared thoughtfully out at the bayou. “It’s not neurotic to be upset about a change in someone you love. And you love Bonnie with all your heart. The whole thing is very strange. I’ve just been trying to piece together the puzzle.”
“That’s like you,” she said as she fastened her seat belt. Joe’s mind was always delving and striving to make logic out of chaos. And most of the time, he was able to do it. “When you come up with something, let me know.”
He started the car. “I’m working on it. Bonnie appeared to you and wanted you to know she was unhappy about something.”
“Maybe she’s always been unhappy. She’s dead, dammit.”
“But you have to balance the experience of years against this one episode. That would mean that there was something unusual happening to change that balance.” He paused. “Something to do with Gallo?”
“If he didn’t kill her, why would she be sad?” She shook her head and smiled with an effort. “Only you would analyze ectoplasm and try to make it rational.”
“Would Bonnie like you referring to her as ectoplasm?”
“Yes, she’d probably giggle.”
“You said that without even thinking. So it doesn’t seem to me that you have to worry about this one case of melancholy.”
She nodded, and this time the smile was genuine. “Not as long as I have you to set me straight.”
“No problem.” He was gazing straight ahead. “But as you said, this is unusual. We should probably be looking out for ‘unusual.’”
“Why?” She tilted her head. “I assume you’re not just being cryptic?”
He didn’t look at her. “No, I’m just remembering what Bonnie told me, that we were coming to the end. Ends aren’t always happy, Eve.”
She was silent for a long moment. “You’ve been telling me that for years in one way or another. Sometimes, I resented it. Sometimes, I was grateful. But you’ve been preparing me for this, haven’t you?”
“I’ve been preparing both of us for it. I knew the first time I met you that we were going to have to be strong to face what life had dealt us. And the end may be the hardest part of all. It’s been a long time coming.”
“That’s what I thought. I tried and tried again, and nothing came of it. I couldn’t find Bonnie. I couldn’t find the monster who killed her.” She whispered, “And I couldn’t see why. I thought if there was a God, then He should help me find my little girl.